


The Love Songs of the King's Men

by anarchycox



Series: Knitter Eggsy Universe [9]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Love, Multi, True Love, and future stories, and just, long ass chapters of my characters falling in love and being in love, there will be backstories here, this is where I indulge my romantic streak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2016-09-19
Packaged: 2018-08-16 01:19:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8081101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anarchycox/pseuds/anarchycox
Summary: A place where I can go more in depth on the relationships and romances of the characters of the KEU.





	

“Uncle Andrew, what’s this?” Hamish stared at Dressing Room Three’s ‘supply closet.’ “You are a tailor.”

“I am, and a good one at that.” Andrew smiled. “But, the suits I design are a little more custom than others.”

Hamish stared at the guns. “Those will ruin the lines of more modern cuts. I can’t spend my life making hideous double breasted suits for the goddamn mafia.”

“We aren’t the mafia.” Harry said coming up behind them. “And I think you’ll find that you can adapt any suit to hide guns well.”

Hamish gave him a withering look. “I can sew anything.” He stared at the eyepatch which had a four leaf clover on it. “Does that bring you any luck?”

“Well still have the other eye.”

Hamish looked at his uncle. “You trust me with this.”

“Oh my boy.” Andrew nodded to Harry, just a little, who lunged.

Hamish didn’t think and twisted into the lunge and ended up with his shears against Harry’s neck.

“Royal Marines?” Harry asked.

“Uncle Andrew started teaching me self defense the day I came out to him.” Hamish replied. “Said I would need the knowledge one day.” Hamish lowered the shears. “Plus I like not carrying a spare tire at my age, so kept up the training.”

“Always knew this job would go to him one day.” Andrew said. “If he wants that is.”

“I have free reign over the shop. As long as it operates in the black and your people are properly outfitted you will leave me alone?” Hamish crossed his arms.

“Within reason.” Harry replied.

“Actually sir, I do own 51% of the shop itself, and will be transferring that to Hamish the day I retire, so you will find it difficult to bother him too much.” Andrew smirked a little at Harry’s look. “You really should read all that paperwork that Merlin gives to you.”

“Good lord, are you pouting?” Hamish looked at the other man. “Don’t you kill people for a living?”

“I do, and if you fail to outfit my agents to the best of your abilities, we will have words.” Harry’s voice was cold.

Hamish looked at him. “What is your name?”

“Harry Hart.”

“No, what is your name?”

“Arthur.” Harry held out his hand.

Hamish shook Harry’s hand. “Arthur, I serve at the pleasure of the king.”

“Oh you will do nicely.”

“We shall see.”

 

*********************************

Hamish put down his shears and closed his eyes. “Bedievere, is there anything else left of your suit?”

“I think I could find a button or two.” Bedievere said cheerfully.

Hamish picked up his shears again. “Bedievere, I’m going to hurt you now.” He came around his desk. “That is the second suit this month. These cost a great deal of money and labour. This fabric has to be specially treated by Mrs. Innis’s team. It takes weeks to apply the treatment without it affecting the fabric.”

Bedievere winked at him. “Can’t stop the bad guys if I’m worried about wrinkling my suit, luv.”

“Agent, I am not your love, I am not even your friend, I am barely your colleague. Do better at your job so that you don’t make mine worse.” Hamish glared at him. “Or I promise I will snip things off that you are attached to.”

Bedievere held up his hands in peace. “I’ll do better.”

“Yes you will.”

“See you later luv.” Bedievere disappeared into the dressing room to head to the estate and Hamish sent off his weekly email to Arthur, begging for a little decorum in his agents and permission to give them lessons in it, or to kill them.

Harry once again denied his request.

Taliesin came through, interested in just a regular suit for fall. He was as ever a delight. Gawain brought in a bag of ash that had once been his suit and Hamish debated lighting him on fire. Tristan just glared at him and Hamish glared back for 45 minutes until Tristan nodded and asked about his favourite pinking shears. They had a lovely conversation as the agent was fit for field trousers.

Guinevere was a joy, Bors, asked for a grenade belt, and god help him Hamish was actually designing one.

These agents were mad, annoying, barely the gentlemen they purported to be and they made his life hell.

He loved this job more than any he had ever had in his life.

Hamish pulled out his notebook and looked at his calendar. It seemed it was time to outfit the twin agents for their first proper Kingsman suits. He looked around the shop, which had been quiet all morning. He went to his small office, and sat at his desk. He pulled out his stationary set out and removed two embossed cards. He wrote a note to Morrvyd, and to Owain, as he had to all the agents, asking them to come to the shop for a fitting for a Kingsman suit. With the other’s it was about learning the agent’s bodies, matching his measurements to what was on file.

But these two were new. He had Merlin’s notes which provided height, weight, and a photo, but that was only a good starting point. He asked them to come for a consultation and measurements. In the note he mentioned that it was likely to take at least two hours, being their first fitting. He signed the cards and put them in envelopes. He felt a little silly putting the wax seal on it, a couple of the agents had laughed at him a little. But a proper first impression was always a welcome thing.

He handed them to his assistant who would deliver them to the estate and began to pull some fabrics out that he thought would suit the two newest agents.

Morrvyd was a delight and much different from Lancelot. Lancelot knew what to look for in fabric and cut, and was very specific in her tastes. Morrvyd however had asked if she really had to look so stern.

“Not at all Morrvyd. In fact I think, that you can be brave enough for a little experimentation can’t you?” Hamish asked as he sipped the tea he had put out for her. “Still Kingsman suits, but a little more costumey, bold.”

She leaned forward. “Talk to me tailor man, let’s blow these boys out of the water.”

Hamish picked up his sketchbook with a grin. After two hours, Morrvyd was measured and done. Hamish kissed her hand. “Madam, it has been my pleasure.”

Morrvyd grinned at him. “Proper gentlemen, natural versus some of us. Nice.” She winked at him. “Go get some proper food, you’ll need it before you deal with my twin, he’s a right mess when it comes to clothes.”

“As you suggest Morrvyd.” Hamish went to a tea shop that had been recommended and was pleased with the food and quite shocked when the hostess sat at the table with him.

“Bloody hell, save me from tourist season,” she said, taking a sip from some water. “I swear, great for business, exhausting for my toes.”

“My apologies madam, but I fear you are operating under the belief we know each other.” Hamish could feel his back stiffening. He didn’t do well with unexpected people.

“Right sorry. But you’re a Kingsman, ain’t you?” She held out her hand. “Michelle. Eggsy’s mum, dating Sean. This is the Kingsman table, always sit you bunch at it, good view of the exits. You like that sort of thing.”

“We are so recognizable, then?”

“That and my son told me to keep an eye out for a gent in a suit, bout Merlin and Harry’s age, who seemed fussy but nice.” Michelle grinned. “How you like working for that mad group?”

“I want to kill half of them.” His voice was dry.

“Yeah that’s about right.” The manager called to Michelle who got back up. “First visit’s on the house bruv. Take care.”

“You should wear your trousers a half inch shorter, you aren’t that tall and a too long pant isn’t helping you. Drop your work clothes at the shop and I’ll fix them for you.” Hamish replied.

Michelle winked at him and walked away.

Hamish was completely unsettled. For a super secret spy agency, this group had a surprising lack of secrecy. He walked back to the shop, wondering at all the people he had met since taking the job, who didn’t seem to find him as cold and well stick up the arse as most people did.

His assistant smiled at him. “Sir, Owain arrived early but wouldn’t wait in your office. He is in dressing room one.”

“We start with tea and consultation first.”

“I know sir, but he said it would be rude to stay in your office without having even met you first.”

Hamish sighed, relieved at that show of courtesy and manners. Perhaps Owain would be just as nice as Morrvyd. Or at least as respectful as Kay and Lamorak.

Hamish automatically grabbed his measuring tape and notebook, thought he wouldn’t need them until after they had their tea. He gave a polite knock and opened the door. “Good afternoon Owain, my apologies for keeping you -” Hamish couldn’t finish the sentence.

This, this wasn’t Owain.

Owain didn’t look like that according to the photo.

He didn’t look that gorgeous and vital and - and he realized he was staring. He straightened his shoulders and wrapped his cold persona around himself.

“Owain.” Hamish sounded so stiff, like the Upstairs, Downstairs robot that an ex had accused him of being.

“So you do fancy togs, can you make me not look like I have a fat arse and do I really need all this, Marks and Sparks is having a clearance sale?” Owain was standing on the small platform in front of the mirror, twisting and turning to see himself.

“I would not consider that you have a ‘fat arse’ Owain. But if that is a concern of yours, we can address it in your consultation over tea in my office.” Hamish extended his hand to the door. Lush and biteable seemed to be the correct descriptors to Hamish. He quieted that part of his brain, quickly.

“Could we just get the numbers crap over with, since I’m already in here?”

“You are nervous.” Hamish said, looking at the young man.

“Nah,” he replied. Hamish just raised a brow. “Okay a little. I have to strip down right, to my pants?”

“Yes.” Hamish’s jaw tightened. It seemed that the lovely exterior was perhaps not matched on the inside. “But I assure you, I can keep my urges in check and not assault you. Would you prefer I ask my assistant in, to keep everything above board?” He had honestly believed that this man’s generation would be over that sort of stereotypical sort of worry.

“Huh?” Owain wrinkled his nose and looked confused. “Don’t know what that’s about. I just…” Owain hunched in on himself a little. “I didn’t always used to be fit yeah? Been the last few years, I was chubby as a kid and teen. I have stretch marks, and kind of hate them.”

“My apologies, Owain, I jumped to an old conclusion.” Hamish went over and gently straightened the young man’s shoulders. “You can leave your vest on, this will be painless. I promise.” Hamish pulled the tape from around his neck. “Would you like me to talk you through this?”

“Yeah, that would help.” Owain went to his belt. “Need to take these off right?”

“If it helps, Morrvd was wearing wonder woman knickers.”

“I know, I bought them for her.” Owain grinned and stripped down to vest and pants. He had Batman pants on.

“Ah.” Hamish wasn’t disappointed.

“Noooonono.” Owain shook his head. “Not like that, not you know buying her sexy knickers. Joke gifts. Harry made us like the Twins and yeah we slotted into brother and sister right quick. She’s dating Mikey.”

“I’m going to measure the back of your shoulders now.” Hamish said quietly. “And that is the earnest mechanic who has a thing for waistcoats.”

“Yeah. He is so smitten.” Owain grinned, it was a large smile, open, and honest.

Hamish was sure he wasn’t smitten by that smile. He was too old and tired for instantaneously smitten. “Measuring your arm now, hold it up please.” Owain raised it too high and Hamish put it where it was needed.

“You have cold hands.”

“My apologies.”

“No worries, I actually don’t mind. Like that better than hot ones,” Owain grinned again. Hamish really need the boy to stop grinning. He moved to the other arm while Owain kept a nervous chatter up.

Hamish moved in front of him. “I need to measure your chest, waist, and hips now.”

Owain took a tiny step away. “You’ll, umm, okay, right.”

“See this is why I recommend tea first, allow you to become accustomed to me.” Hamish explained gently.

“Good point.” Owain stepped off the small platform. “Let’s go have tea.”

Hamish blinked as the young agent left the dressing room and walked through the shop to the small office still just in his pants and vest. He scurried after, past his laughing assistant. “We’ll need the tea.”

“Yes sir. And by the way sir, thanks for bringing me along to this job, best ever.”

“Hush you, herbal and soothing.”

“Right away sir.”

Owain had stopped at the door and Hamish let him in. “Don’t you want trousers?”

“Would have to take them off again after this, saving a step.”

“How practical Owain.” Hamish replied. He gestured and Owain sat and Hamish went behind his desk. He usually sat beside the customer, but he needed a little distance. Only this put him looking directly at Owain. Who was bloody beautiful. Excellent. “Is this your first fitting?”

Owain was silent and fidgety. “No.” He couldn’t look at Hamish. “I was 14, needed a decent suit for my grandfather’s funeral. Mom took me to the shop. Wasn’t bespoke but they measured a bit, for show really. But the man, he wasn’t nice. Or I guess he thought he was, said he could hide my fat rolls, that a suit could make the fattest child look charming. Kept going on really.”

“Owain, that was an unfortunate experience. It shouldn’t have been like that.”

“No, suppose not, but your job is to hide the bad, make the good look better. And you’ve been suiting up blokes who are mostly good. I mean look at Sin, and Gawain, gonna need to do a fair bit of work to make me look even a little like them.”

Oh, the poor lamb. Hamish wanted to pull him into a hug. He folded his hands on the desk. “Owain, I don’t want to make you look like them at all.”

“Right, yeah.” Owain played with his tea cup.

“Owain, you don’t look like them, in part because they are a dozen years older than you. They carry the weight of the job in a way you yet don’t. That means their clothes will be different, they will look different.” Hamish took a sip from his own cup. “They are extraordinarily handsome men, but then so are you.”

“Huh?”

Hamish smiled a little at the boy’s confusion. “You are an attractive young man, Owain, and I think part of your fear is that you’ll feel like you are playing dress up in a Kingsman suit, that you’ll feel a fraud?”

Owain smiled. “Yeah. Yeah that’s kind of it.”

“I designed things a little differently for Morrvyd, there is no reason that we can’t do the same for you.” Hamish pulled over his sketch book. “The Kingsmen are by and large traditional. Even young Galahad, likes to dress up as his father.”

“His father been dead since the 90s.”

“Learn your internal politics better, Owain.” Hamish scolded gently. “Know the relationships of your co-workers. Arthur is a father to Galahad, and Galahad dresses like him, in part to maintain a connection that does not need such maintaining.”

“You have everyone figured out so quick?”

“Still missing a few pieces, but I watch as everyone comes through here, I observe. Your tailor is better than your priest or bartender for secrecy.” Hamish smiled a little. “Now, let us talk about modern cuts and alternates to full suits.”

Owain leaned forward a little. “Sure.”

An hour later they went back to the dressing room and Hamish finished measuring the agent.  “There, that wasn’t so bad, was it Owain?”

Owain was putting his trousers back on. “No, it wasn’t. You’re a pretty decent guy, Hamish. But ummm…”

“Yes?”

“Could you not call me Owain? It’s just, that’s the job name, and I sort of, I know you are a part of the Kingsman, but I just...ugh never mind.”

“I do prefer a certain amount of professionalism.” Hamish admitted. God he sounded like that stick went even further up his arse.

“Would Mr. Donovan work?”

“It would.” Hamish replied. “Mr. Donovan, I should have your suit ready in a week.”

“Thanks! This really didn’t suck.” Owain said cheerfully.

Hamish gave a small bow. “I am thrilled.”

Owain snorted, “You’re a funny guy.” He gave a salute and hit the wall to access the elevator to the bullet train.

Hamish went out to the shop floor and sat down, dropping his head onto the cutting table. His assistant pat him on the back.

“Another one sir?”

“Shut up. It is a crush, I’ll be over it in a day or two.”

“Sure you will.”

“I can fire you.”

“No you can’t, if you could you would have twenty years ago at Burberry.” Another pat. “What are we working on?”

“You cut Morrvyd’s trousers, while I work on the paper for Owain’s suit.”

“Very good sir. A more bracing tea perhaps?”

“Please.” Hamish stood and squeezed his assistant’s hand. “Stop me from making a fool of myself?”

“Sorry, sir, I’ll try, but I’m only magic with a needle, not actually magic.”

 

*************************************

Owain was walking past the Kingsman shop, on his way to meet Bors and Pilar for lunch. He blinked and saw Hamish at that big table, laying out fabric.

It were Sunday, the guy shouldn’t be there. In fact, Owain realized that he had seen the guy at the shop everyday. He looked across the street to the coffee shop and nodded to himself. He jogged across and grabbed two drinks. He hurried back across and tried to open the door, which turned out difficult. He should have gotten a tray for the coffees. Owain sort of knocked on the door with his elbow and waved a coffee cup at Hamish.

He waited while Hamish walked over and smiled when the door opened. “Why are you working again?”

“Because people are less than stellar at keeping their suits in one piece Mr. Donovan.” Hamish rolled his eyes.

“I have a latte?” Owain offered a cup. “Or a macchiato, or a something. It is butterscotch anyways.”

Hamish smiled a little. “Thank you Mr. Donovan.”

“Oh crap, you’re like the old British dude who only drinks tea aren’t you?” Owain winced. Everything was wrong with that sentence.

Hamish laughed, and Owain figured he hadn’t screwed up too much. “I enjoy coffee on the weekends actually. And I am younger than Arthur and Merlin, so only sort of an old British dude.”

“Yeah, sorry.” Owain felt his cheeks heat a little.

“Where’s your Kingsman’s dog?” Hamish asked. “Being a nice Sunday, aren’t you out for a walk with him?”

“Her, and no, she’s at the kennel. She ate some funky flower and got a bit of a tummy ache. They are taking real good care of her.” Owain sipped his drink. “You have a pet?”

“No. I sometimes think of getting one, but I am afraid the shedding would drive me spare.”

“Could get like a gerbil, or a turtle like Twitch.”

“I had a pet rock once, it ran away from home.” Owain laughed, that was funny. Why did the other Kingsman think him dour, Hamish was funny.

Hamish pulled two bolts of fabric off the wall. “Do you like these, do you have a preference?”

“Uh, the left one?” Owain said after a moment. “Like the purple stripe in it.”

“Very good, Mr. Donovan.”

“Is that for my suit?”

“No. it is for your alternate, more casual look I’ve been working on for you. That’s why I’m here.”

Owain stared at him. “Alternate?”

“Yes. A second look, very casual but still professional. Waistcoat and trousers pair, no jacket.” Hamish hummed a little to himself.

“But Kingsman get one suit.” Owain paused. “Well we get more than one, but they are all suits, anything else is out of pocket.”

“They do, but then this isn’t a suit.” Hamish winked at him, “And this is my pleasure, there will be no cost to you.” Owain felt funny in his stomach. He shouldn’t have had that second shot of syrup added to it.

“You came in on your day off, to make me more Kingsman clothes.”

“You act like it is a big deal. I like Sundays. The shop is quiet of agents, and I can work on some of my more interesting ideas.”

“I should leave you alone then.”

Hamish smiled and that extra jolt of sugar did a funny thing to Owain’s stomach again. “Your company is always welcome Mr. Donovan.”

Owain smiled a little. “Thanks.” He looked at a clock. “Aww crap I’m meeting Bors and Pilar five minutes ago.” He ran without a proper goodbye. He wasn’t running for any other reason than being late.

 

******************************

Owain stared at the threeway mirror. “I don’t understand.”

Hamish was kneeling at his feet and pinning the trousers. “Don’t understand what, Mr. Donovan. And please, no slouching.”

“This isn’t me.”

“Oh dear, have the supervillains created dopplegangers. Should I be scared for my life right now? Or perhaps a Mr. Donovan robot has infiltrated our midst.” Hamish sighed and stood, and hauled Owain’s shoulders back before kneeling again. “Scary evil creature, allow me to finish pinning these before you turn into a pod person.”

Owain laughed a little. “Why did everyone else seem confused when I said you were funny?”

“I’m sure I don’t know.” Hamish replied. He finished pinning the cuffs. “There, now let’s see.”

“It isn’t me.” Owain repeated. “I don’t look like this?”

“Like what?” Hamish fussed at the shoulders, added a couple of pins here and there for minor tweaks. “Take the jacket off and put the holster on.” He paused. “Tell me you didn’t change your mind and decide double holster like Arthur and Gawain.”

“No still single holster.” Owain said. He struggled with the jacket, terrified of losing the pins. Hamish helped him ease it off his shoulders. Owain strapped the gun on. “I just. I look posh.”

“That is a requirement of this job.” Hamish held the jacket out and Owain slid into it. “If you didn’t look good, I would have done my job poorly.”

“Yeah, but I look like a bloody...model or something. What the hell?” Owain made faces in the mirror. “Like Morrvyd showed me photos of what you did for her and jesus Hamish, you just made beautiful more perfect. But this, this feels fake. Like a catalogue. How do I get a coffee in this?”

“With a lid and straw?”

“Shut it, I walk out of here in this, guarantee not even a block and dog will piss on me.” Owain shot back.

“We have an excellent in house dry cleaning service.” Owain was ready to protest, but Hamish quirked a brow and the young agent was rather cowed by that look. “Mr. Donovan. It is a costume, a part of the act. You do look every inch a charming, affluent, handsome young man of London.”

“My mum works for the British Library and da is an Uni Lit prof at the city college. We ain’t posh.”

“But you are educated, and that counts a fair bit. What is that favourite poem you mentioned on the blog?” Hamish smoothed the jacket, making sure the holster was undetectable.

“Valediction Forbidding Mourning.” Owain answered. He could never resist it, “ _Thy firmness makes my circle just, And makes me end where I begun._ ” He had lowered into what he called his reading voice, and then smiled and laughed at himself. “Sound like my da when I do that. Maybe you should have made this in tweed and elbow patches.”

“Mr. Donovan, what’s the problem?”

Owain shrugged a bit. He found he could lie to Hamish. “I look like the guys I always dreamed of looking like, but those guys were always arses in reality.”

“Mr. Donovan, I promise that my excellent tailoring will not make you an arse.” Hamish smiled. “In fact, as promised, I made your ass look rather spectacular.”

Owain twisted a bit and whistled. “Yeah, jesus that looks good. I’m just scared, I walk around in this, people will see through it, recognize how much of a fraud it is.”

“You could try the Arthur route of announcing to all and sundry that you are a secret spy.”

“Yeah, don’t quite have the balls for that.”

“In that case what I was working on Sunday may be of use to you.” Hamish said. “Come on. Do you have that alternate holster I asked you to bring?”

“The one you had Pilar design? Sure.” Owain pointed to the chair.

“Good strip down.”

“How far?”

“All the way, Mr. Donovan.”

“Sure.” Owain wondered a bit, he had kept the pants and vest on before, but Hamish wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t important. Hamish had left the room and Owain got down to skin and covered his dick with his hands and tried to think of it as being at the doctors. He made sure he couldn’t see in the mirrors.

“Now I do think that this will suit you, and your worries well.” Hamish said as he walked in after a walk. “And you are nude.” Hamish blinked and quickly turned his back.

“You said strip all the way down!” Owain flushed and hunched his shoulders.

“I meant to your pants.”

“Then why didn’t you say that?” Owain yelled, hideously embarrassed.

“My apologies for my poor communication.” Hamish said stiffly. “But I do actually have new pants and vest for you. I had noticed that the cotton was of a poor quality.” He held out a tissue wrapped package behind himself. “Since I had your measurements it was easy to have them made for you.”

“You had me bespoke underoos made.” Owain stared at the tissue paper.

“Yes I had bespoke ‘underoos’ made for you.” Hamish sighed at the childish word, swore he didn’t find it charming.

Owain slid them and the vest on. “Oh god this is the softest shit ever.” He realized Hamish was still facing the door. “Uh, you can turn around? All the nasty bits are covered.”

“I am sure they are anything but nasty.”

Owain laughed. “Thanks, Hamish.”

Hamish turned. “They fit well.” He held out a bag. “Let’s try this then.” He opened the bag and drew out trousers. “Here these will be the same as the last pair, as will the shirt. Put both on.”

Owain dressed quickly. They were comfortable, and of course a perfect fit. “Nice, what’s next?”

“Braces, the ones that Pilar designed.” Hamish helped Owain put them on, hitching his fingers just a little into the waist of the trousers. He slid them up onto Owain’s shoulders. Fussed at them and then moved behind Owain.

Owain shivered, though he couldn’t quite feel the cool of Hamish’s fingers. The man smelled nice. “Is that cologne?”

“Aftershave, we actually sell a small selection if you are interested.” Hamish picked up the lightweight holster and attached it to the back of the braces. “R&D did excellent work here. Put your firearm in.”

Owain slid the gun into place. It was much different at the small of his back, than his side. He’d need to practice. “But why like this?”

Hamish pulled a waistcoat out, in the fabric that Owain had mentioned liking. He held it out and Owain shrugged in. It perfectly covered the gun. Hamish came around and fussed with the buttons and how it lay. “Good, yes?”

Owain was a little taller than Hamish thanks to the platform and looked down at him. “Yeah, feels good.”

“Excellent. Now I admit I do not do outwear, but I did work for Burberry for a number of years and was able to pull some strings.” He handed Owain a trench coat, a simple, classic cut and Owain threw it over top. “There, I think that feels like 21st Century English professor, which is a look you should be able to carry well.”

Hamish waited while Owain looked. Owain looked in the mirror and moved around. There was just something much more relaxed about him. “Yeah. Yeah this is brilliant Hamish. This just feels like gussied up me, but still me.”

“The coat is treated to be bulletproof like the suits.” Hamish said. “The trousers don’t even need a hem, if you wear them will those dr marten shoes that you like. You could just walk out in it, if you like.”

“Hell yeah.” Owain grinned. “Don’t know what the other guy was like, but no way was he as great as you, Hamish.” Owain stepped down and hugged the older man. “Can’t wait to show this off to Morrvyd. See ya.”

Hamish didn’t even have a chance to say anything before Owain was gone. He needed a drink.

 

*********************************

“What do you mean you don’t have a casual set?” Owain stared at Morrvyd as they sat in their kitchen and ate dinner. “The second set you got.”

“Jesse, you wanker, listen to what I’m saying. I din’t get no second set.” Morrvyd waved a fork at him. “I got my main suit. And when the job requires more clothes, I’ll get them. There is no second set right away.”

“But I thought, maybe because we were new, we got a couple things.” Owain smoothed the waistcoat down.

“No, you got a couple things because -” Morrvyd took a bite of food to draw the tension out.

“Because why?” Owain looked at her confused.

“Come on you know why.” She rolled her eyes.

“If I knew I wouldn’t ask.”

“You cannot be this clueless, I know you aren’t this clueless.” Morrvyd stared at him. “Oh god you are.” She had to put down her food, she was laughing so hard. “Right, if you haven’t clued in this time next week, I’ll tell you.”

Owain frowned and tried to figure out what he was missing.

******************************

“Oh my gosh, look how wonderful you look baby!” Owain rolled his eyes as his mum gushed.

“Mum, just my new work clothes.” He fussed.

“You look so grown up.”

“I’m 24.” He looked around for his father. “Da! Help mum is fussing.”

His dad came out, face stuck in a book. He remembered to look up. “You look nice, son. New glasses.”

“No, same ones.” Owain usually wore his contacts, but when visiting his parents he tended to give his eyes a break.

“Look at his clothes, dear. He looks like a proper gent. All grown up.”

“Mum, leave the tie alone.”

“I don’t even know this knot.” She smoothed it down.

“It’s a four in hand, Hamish showed me a few different ones.” Owain said.

His mum ushered him into the kitchen where the roast was just waiting to be sliced.. “Oh really. And who is Hamish?” She winked at her husband.

“Mum, he’s just the head tailor at work, he helped me get some more appropriate clothes.”

“A friend, like that girl who’s your co-worker, who you still haven’t invited over?”

“Wait, there’s a girl?” Owain laughed as his dad blinked. “Son, do we need to have a talk about the birds and bees?”

“Dad, 24.” Owain reminded him. His dad tended to forget what year it was.

“Oh, right. Well, if you get anyone pregnant, don’t name your child after a Shakespearian character, go more modern. Dryden perhaps.”

Owain laughed at his father’s idea of modern. “Gem has a boyfriend, we just decided to get a flat together because, well you know the price of places these days.”

“That still doesn’t explain Hamish.” His mum always a person who never let go of details.

“Tailor, helped me get better looking. Had coffee a couple times.” Owain saw the look his parents gave each other. “What?”

“Son, you know we support you, no matter what, right?”

“Sure, Mum, but why you saying that?”

“Well, if you’ve been dating Hamish, we are okay with that.”

Owain began to laugh. “No!” He laughed some more. “No, Mum. Not dating, he just works more hours than he should, so I drop him off a coffee and we just chat a bit, have lunch once a week. He’s a pal. Besides he’s like your age, maybe even a little older. Not going to be interested in a junior assistant like me, not when so many fit gay guys at work.”

Owain was looking at his plate and missed the second look his parents gave each other. They settled into conversations about books as they usually did, until Morrvyd’s text noise came through. “Got to look sorry.” His eyes widened at the message and he began to shovel food in his mouth. “Sorry, Hamish is playing cards against humanity and I am not missing this. Got to go to this work party.” He grabbed a yorkie and kissed his mum and dad and was gone within ten minutes.

“Was I that clueless?” Owain’s father asked his mother.

“Yes, dear you were.”

 

***********************************

Owain sat in his office with Morrvyd and nursed his hangover. “Right, need to pace these Wednesday nights more.”

“You weren’t even supposed to be there.” She reminded him, hangover free from years of practice.

“Like I was going to miss Hamish playing a dirty game.” Owain smiled. “Plus you all got to see he’s really funny, and fun, and nice.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“What, he’s awesome!” Owain smiled and looked at the steel forget me not cufflinks that Hamish had given him.

“Bruv, get a fucking clue, before I bash it into your head.” Morrvyd ran a hand over her face. “He couldn’t stop looking at you in your nerd glasses. He had to excuse himself.”

“Well they do make me look different. And we all did, we drank a lot.” Owain shrugged.

Morrvyd yanked at her hair. “Oh my god Jesse he wants you to have his -”

Before she could finish, Gawain knocked on their door. “Did you see the message?” He sounded serious.

They both straightened their shoulders. “What, sir?”

“Stand down, not work work. But Hamish’s ex has come into the shop, with his current boyfriend, and is making things awkward for Hamish. Hamish has requested a rescue.”

Owain’s chair screeched back as he stood. “Let’s go.”

Gawain looked at Morrvyd as Owain pushed passed him. “No he hasn’t clued in they are in love and should have babies.”

Gawain sighed. “Why am I always the one to put people together? When did I become cupid?” He moved out of the door and slowed Owain down. “He isn’t in danger, the confronted with an ex rescue is common enough.”

“Wouldn’t know.”

“Well yes, we know you haven’t had sex but…” They reached the train.

“Didn’t date a lot either. Was fat and always buried in a book. Took my cousin to high school grad dance.” Owain straightened his tie, and Gawain just loosened it again and undid the top button.

“Okay, well this will go better if you go in there for the rescue than me.”

“Why, you sort of fit his type that he talked about. Brunet, fit, younger than him.” Owain said.

“Careful, darling, with that tone, a gentleman might take offence.” Gawain set the elevator to rise. He ran his hands through Owain’s hair. “I just think you’ll be better at this. You have spent more time with him than several of us combined.”

“Because you don’t notice how great he is.” Owain grumbled, offended as always on Hamish’s behalf.

“Oh, you’ve opened our eyes to that.” Gawain licked his lips a little and just wanted to pet the puppy’s head when he glared.

“You have a boyfriend.”

“I’m poly, remember darling.”

“Hamish isn’t, so how about you back off before you hurt him. And then I hurt you.” Owain made himself sound as cold as he could. He thought about Gawain kissing Hamish, and that funny tummy feeling that happened sometimes, felt sour, it burned. “You go near him, and I’ll collect your head, and use it as a finger puppet for a cautionary tale about people going where they aren’t wanted.”

“Oh, so that’s how you beat the other candidates.” Gawain smiled. “Calm yourself, I am happy with Chris and the people at the club. Focus on Hamish, he needs your help. Go out there and act like his boyfriend.”

“How do I do that?” They reached the top.

“Just interrupt them, and act like the other two aren’t there. Focus on Hamish and take all your queues from him. A kiss of greeting would be good and keep contact. Physical contact always useful. I’d imagine they’ll leave quickly once you stake your claim.” He ruffed Owain’s hair some more. “Just treat him like your friend, but more.”

“I can do this, I have NLP training and I wasn’t the worst.”

“That’s not comforting darling.”

“For Hamish, I can do whatever.” Owain said simply.

Gawain groaned, and wondered why they couldn’t see how in love they were. “Go get them tiger.”

“That’s from Spiderman.”

“Is it?” Gawain pretty much pushed Owain out of the dressing room and accessed the shop cameras to spy.

Owain didn’t look at the two men, all he could see was that Hamish’s knuckles were white in the clenched fist that the desk hid. His shoulders were straight enough, he wondered that the man’s spine didn’t snap. He went over. “Hamish! Hey babe, sorry took me a mo to sort that room.” He was standing beside him and wondered what a boyfriend would do, what Hamish would allow at work. He leaned in and kissed Hamish’s jaw. He hadn’t realized how close they were in height. He slid an arm around Hamish’s back, the man seemed to go even more tense, before he relaxed.

“Hello, Jesse.” Hamish said.

Owain froze a little, it was the first time Hamish had said his name. He wondered when that funny feeling in his stomach started to make his heart thump more. Maybe he should go to medical, have this checked out. He realized he was staring at Hamish.

“Oh right, sorry you are with clients.” He smiled at them civilly.

“Actually this is my ex-boyfriend, Charles and his partner -”

“Henry.” The man supplied.

“Charmed. Jesse. What brings you to the shop?” Owain hooked his hand over the back pocket of Hamish’s trousers, he had seen people do it all the time at school. He watched the ex notice how his hand had dropped a little. He sharpened his smile a little.

“Heard from acquaintances that Hamish had landed here. A small place.” He looked around. “But I suppose you have some clients.”

“Several, and Hamish didn’t just land here, he owns majority.”

“Impressive.” Charles said. “Perhaps Henry could help you out a little. He’s a model.” Henry ducked his head.

“Well if we were ever to do a print campaign, perhaps we would consider it, though Sarah Asoka-Morton would come out of retirement for us.”

Henry’s eyes widened. “She’s brilliant. We all study her photos, best local model. She’d look incredible in the suits.”

Charles frowned at his boyfriend. But then got a look in his eyes. “Well, we have an appointment, that we can’t be late for, but it seems we all have so much in common, that we should meet for drinks.”

Owain wondered that the other guys weren’t flinching away from the tension in Hamish. He couldn’t stop himself and slid his fingers under Hamish’s jacket and ran soothing circles over his tailor.

Hamish leaned into the touch. “Drinks sound lovely Charles. 8 on Saturday at the Savoy?”

“Sounds great to me, love.” Owain said, he liked how Hamish leaned into the touch, the older man was almost purring.

“Lovely then, we’ll look forward to it.” Charles clapped his hands. “We’ll see you then. Hamish, glad to see you looking younger again, your mid-forties weren’t the kindest to you.”

Owain started forward, but Hamish put a hand on his neck. Oh that was nice, the cool fingers at his hairline were nice.

He stayed still as they left the shop. Hamish pulled away. “What was that Mr. Donovan?”

“You called for a rescue.” Owain smiled. “I’m prince charming.”

“Yes, you have many princely qualities.” Hamish’s voice was flat and Owain couldn’t tell if that was sincere or sarcastic. “I have to make a few calls, excuse me.” Hamish disappeared into his office.

Owain went to the dressing room where Gawain was waiting. “I screwed up.”

“No, he is just tired from seeing the ex. It will be fine. And now we get to make you look good for Saturday night.” Gawain smiled. “I’m good at this sort of thing.”

Only Gawain barely got to prep Owain on how to handle a fake date that puts an ex in their place, because an emergency arose and the twins needed to do an extraction in Casablanca.

“Right, I just need to go talk to Hamish.” Owain said to Merlin.

“Negative, Charon is already prepping the plane, you and Morrvyd are wheels up in 20. Mikey is stocking the plane with your requirements.” Merlin handed him a briefing. “Go do your job well, agent and you’ll be home in 36 hours.”

Owain grabbed the file and started hurrying down the hall. He pulled out his cell and hit speed dial three. One was his folks, two was Morrvyd, he wondered when Hamish had become number three. He shrugged. “Hamish, I’m wheels up.”

“I’ll cancel our drink plans.” Hamish replied immediately.

“Nope, this is a quick turnaround. I should be back early Saturday afternoon.” Owain stood at the bottom of the plane.

“Mr. Donovan, I don’t wish for you to be worrying about our fake date, while you are risking your life.” Hamish sounded funny.

Owain’s tummy felt all sorts of wrong at the words fake date. He ran up the plane where he saw Mikey give Gemma a handgun and a kiss before hurrying off the plane. Charon was at the front readying for take off.

“Hey no, cancelling looks weak to exes right? So we don’t cancel. I’ll make it, promise bro.” Owain said. He waited in the quiet, why was Hamish quiet?

“Very well then. Luck in battle, bro.” Hamish hung up.

Owain frowned. “What went wrong there?”

Morrvyd very carefully put her gun down and went over and hugged Owain and then grabbed a cushion from the sofa and began to pummel him. “Get a fucking clue!!!!!!!” She hit him some more. “And if you ever pull that no homo shit again, I’ll kick your ass.”

“What no homo stuff?” Owain asked, trying to protect his head.

“When do you call Hamish, bro?” She yelled. “Charon, help a girl out?”

“Have his babies.” Sean replied. “You are more clueless than me or even Bors. Seriously son, have his babies. Also buckle in, we’re taking off.” The plane wheeled out.

“I don’t understand.” Owain sat down and buckled in. Morrvyd sat beside him.

“He gives you gifts, calls you by your name, not your call sign. He lights up whenever he sees you.” Morrvyd kept her voice soft. “You always talk about him, defend him. You light up too. You have crush, you like him.”

“Well, sure I like him, he’s my friend.” Owain frowned.

“No you dumbass, you _like_ him.” Morrvyd said. “You want to kiss him and have sex with him, and talk about poems, and music. Bet you’d love for him to sing to you.”

“Well, you heard him, music contract! He could have had a contract, but he won’t tell me which club he sings at no matter how I weedle.”

“See, like him.”

“He’s nice, and my day is better when I see him. That’s how I feel about you though.” Owain replied.

Morrvyd unbuckled and climbed into Owain’s lap and snogged him and ground down in a quick lap dance.

“Ewwwwww, what the hell was that?” Owain shoved her off and wiped at his mouth.

“Now picture if that was Hamish.” She said.

Owain thought about it, but he couldn’t quite make it work. His mind then reversed the roles and put him on Hamish’s lap. He couldn’t stop the squirming.

“There you go. Have his babies, live happily ever after.” She began to sort the weapons Mikey gave her and ignored Owain. He had some thinking to do.

 

*************************

Owain looked at the wall. The numbers on the clock had to be wrong. He stared at the bad guys, who were double the number expected and currently had a knife to Morrvyd’s throat and a gun at the head of the man they were sent to pull out.

“You all are going to make me miss my date.” Owain said stunned. “If I’m not out of here in like 20 minutes, no way do I get back in time.”

“You are not getting back at all.” One of the villains growled.

“Plus fake date, I’m sure Hamish will cope.” Morrvyd added helpfully. The guy holding her yanked her hair. “Ow!”

“He’ll cancel.” Owain said.

The hostage was crying, sweating in fear.

“At the last minute?” Morrvyd snorted. “A proper gent like him? No, he’ll go by himself. Can’t even press one of the other agents into helping him out. No he’ll go meet his ex and the exes new boytoy model boyfriend without backup.”

“Fuck that.” Owain said, calmly. “Morrvyd, if you please.” She grinned and began to hurt the guy holding her. Owain ignored his twin and focused on the hostage. He had learned in training, that he sort of stopped thinking when he began to fight. It wasn’t just that he switched over to instinct, it was more this weird calm, out of body thing. He could almost see himself putting the grenade in the one man’s mouth and pushing him at the other guys.

It was over in 10 minutes. Owain went to untie the hostage but he screamed and shied away from Owain. Morrvyd helped the man up. “Come on sir, let’s get you back to your group.”

Owain looked down at his hands that were covered in blood. Good thing the coat took most of the blood and bullets, he wasn’t sure he’d have time to change. He didn’t want to be late for his date.

Fake date.

Whatever.

They landed and Merlin was waiting to debrief them. “No, sir, later. Hamish.” Owain said.

Merlin raised a brow. “Protocol dictates.”

Owain had a gun out before he realized it. Morrvyd moved in front of him. “I’ll take care of our action report. You give me your firearm and go to your meeting at the Savoy. I checked in Taliesin and Gawain are at the bar, staking it out, ready to help Hamish. Hamish is due in 10 minutes, you’ll be late but that’s better than not showing up.”

Owain left them without another word. He rode the train and emerged in the city. Shit, he was running really late. He grabbed a taxi and gave the address.

“You okay mate, that’s a nasty cut on your cheek?”

“What cut?”

Owain looked in the mirror that the drive flipped down. He saw a cut on his cheek, held together with a couple butterfly bandages. “Oh, shaving.”

“Sure bruv.” The drive was silent.

Owain pays him and stands in front of the Savoy. He smoothed down his tie and hooks his Kingsman glasses over in the pocket of the waistcoat. He thought he didn’t look too bad, little frazzled, but he could do this rescue. He was only….an hour late at this point.

He walked into the bar and scanned the crowd. He gave a small nod to Gawain and Sin and frowned when Gawain’s eyes looked angry. Angry Gawain still terrified him a little. He followed Sin’s small gesture and saw where Hamish was sitting.

Owain saw red. Hamish was clearly uncomfortable, his perfect posture all hunched over, his body language screaming his misery. The other couple were fawning over each other, kissing and touching, and there seemed to be a fresh hickey on the model’s neck. They were trying to put on a show for Hamish.

Well, Owain could do that too.

He hurried over and didn’t even think about it. He spun Hamish on his stool and pulled his head close for a hard kiss. It was awkward and Owain found it a little disappointing. He was about to pull away but then he felt Hamish’s hands on his jaw, and his head was gently angled. Oh, that was better. Cool fingers, warm mouth. Owain liked that combo.

Hamish pulled away. “You are hurt.”

“It’s nothing.” Owain smiled dopily. “Hello.”

“Good evening Jesse.”

There was his name again in that BBC with an edge voice. Shit, shit, shit, maybe he did want to have Hamish’s babies.

“I’m sorry, I was late.”

“You are here now.” Hamish tilted his head and kissed the cut. “Spar get out of line at the gym?”

“Something like that yeah.”

“Excuse me, hello?” Charles said.

“Yeah hi.” Owain turned and then grimaced a little. “What smells like that, is it your cocktail? It smells...like…” Owain couldn’t describe it.

Charles smirked at Hamish. “Really, he doesn’t recognize that scent? Can’t even get it up anymore Ham?”

Owain looked at Hamish confused. Hamish was a little grey. “They smell like sex Jesse.”

“This is the freaking Savoy, you don’t go bump uglies in the bog.” Owain whispered, angry.

“I’m sure they didn’t. They probably ‘bumped uglies’ in the self park lot around the corner.” Hamish said drily. “Still driving that Audi, Charles?”

“Hmmm, Henry is very bendy.” Charles pet his boyfriend’s hair.

“Jesus fucking Christ, is this how this shit goes down?” Owain looked at them, and they looked smug.

“Not our fault, you hooked yourself up with an old fuddy duddy, whose idea of exciting sex is leaving the lights on.” Charles said. His boyfriend looked a little embarrassed but, didn’t actually stop him.

“Aren’t you like in your thirties? Shouldn’t you be less of a high school bully?” Owain asked.

“I’m an investment broker for one of the largest firms in the city. I can members of the House of Lords on speed dial. I earn more than you can imagine.” Charles puffed himself up. “You what, sort fabric at his shop, pretend you enjoy listening to him play piano and buy you useless little things, to keep you interested? How pathetic are you that you’ve taken this old queen on as your sugar daddy?”

“Well, this has been so very lovely, we should really do it again sometime. Charles, I do hope the strides in Herpes medications is helping you.” Hamish stood, done with this.

“Hey, love, get me a cocktail?” Owain asked. The other three stared at him, surprised. “I think we’re all just a little tense, and need to calm down. No reason we can’t end this evening politely, isn’t there?” Owain smiled innocently.

Henry seemed relieved, and Charles thought, something, Owain couldn’t tell what. Hamish’s eyes narrowed. “20 minutes of civility and we all move on. I could use a G&T babe.”

Hamish nodded and got up. Owain squeezed his hand and kissed his palm. “You amaze me, you know.” He said quietly. He hoped that Hamish could tell that was a fact. Once Hamish was out of ear shot, Owain turned to the other two. “So, investment banker and model huh. Pretty impressive.”

Charles opened his mouth ready to brag.

“Me, just got a job, well career, really. My first.” Owain smiled. He caught Gawain’s eye and watched the agent sit up straighter. Owain didn’t know why certain people reacted when he smiled. But Henry did the deer freeze thing that people did.

Charles was too into himself to clue in. “Yes sorting fabric for Hamish. How much work did you have to do to get that job?”

“You’re implying I did it on my knees right?” Owain asked. He could see Hamish giving his drink order. “That that was the only way I could get a job, and Hamish could get a lover?”

“It seems that he didn’t even get that.” Charles smirked.

“No, he did get someone who admires him greatly, and doesn’t appreciate the points you were trying to score tonight.” Owain smiled again. This time Charles seemed to realize something was wrong. “He got me, who thinks he’s brilliant and funny and so very attractive. He got me, who is only a junior worker, that’s true, that just means that I kill a few less people.” Owain leaned in. “I didn’t get this at the gym; my cheek got cut when I was annoyed at work early this morning and beat three guys to death with a toilet plunger. Well technically I only beat one to death with the toilet plunger, the grenade I stuffed in his mouth killed the other guys.” Owain laughed at their looks. “I’m kidding, of course, that’s all a joke, just like me telling you this is a joke. It’s funny when I tell you that if either of you ever come near Hamish again, even on the same street as him, I will come into your home and I’ll strangle you model boy toy, with Chuck here’s intestines and then I’ll jam a rusty pipe up your ass and use you as a meatstick to beat Charlie to death -- if that is of course slicing him opening and using his bowels to choke you didn’t already kill him, but I think I could keep him alive long enough for all this to work.” Owain paused and looked at his nails, “Is that eyeball under here?”

He heard a faint sound and grinned. “Oh that smell I do know, which one of you wee’d because of my little joke? Because we all know I’m of course joking when I say if you ever breathe the same air as Hamish again, I’ll use your lungs as punching bags after a remove them through your nostrils.”

“You son of a bitch.” Charles knocked over his chair. “How dare you...who do you think you are to…” Henry was almost crying he was so scared.

“Who do I think I am?” Owain’s smile this time had Gawain on the move. “I’m your fucking angel of death if you even dare glance at Hamish again.”

Charles threw a wide punch which Owain easily avoided, but it hit the waitress. Owain felt horrible about that.

Hamish stormed over and helped the waitress up. “I am so sorry madam, for these ‘gentlemen’ and their actions. We will be leaving directly of course, but I want to make sure you have help and to provide recompense for our behaviour.”

Hamish helped her sit and waved over Gawain. “This gentleman will provide you what aid you need. And I do again apologize for our behaviour.” Hamish put down a great deal of money on the table. “We are leaving.” His voice was hard, dead.

Owain held out his hand and Hamish ignored it and stalked out of the bar. Outside Charles moved to Hamish, and Owain couldn’t stop the snarl that came out. Henry started to cry and tugged at Charles’s arm. They left without another word.

“Hamish, I’m sorry.”

“I find it difficult to care Mr. Donovan.” Hamish looked at him.

“They were cruel to you.” Owain stared back, why couldn’t Hamish see they were so much less than him.

“They were petty to me, that does not suggest that we return that behaviour.”

“You want to take the high fucking road against that scum.” Owain waved a hand in their direction. “Why?”

“Because sometimes Mr. Donovan that is all you have left.” Hamish was pale and shaking a little.

“Hamish -” Owain moved closer.

“I thank you for your rescue, good night Mr. Donovan.” Hamish turned and left.

Owain stood there, wondering how it was all wrong. It wasn’t a good feeling in his tummy.

Taliesin came up beside him. “You have a meeting with Arthur and Merlin tomorrow.”

“For what? Causing a scene, like none of you have done that before.” Owain glared at him.

“For an innocent getting harmed in your pissing match.” Taliesin looked at him. “You might want to consider telling him that wasn't all fake.”

“He knows that.” Owain stared after Hamish.

“Does he?” Taliesin nodded to Owain and left with Gawain.

Owain went home where Morrvyd was waiting. “So you having gay babies?” She asked. She looked at his face. “Oh hun, come on. Come here.” Morrvyd held open her arms.

“I’m in trouble.”

“I know baby.” Morrvyd kissed Owain’s head. “We’ll get your sorted.”

 

*******************************

The next day Owain stood in Arthur’s office and accepted his week’s suspension, though he refused to exactly say why he created the ruckus. He had clued in at about 2am that Hamish had been mad because the older man, hated making a scene. Hated being the centre of attention like that. Owain wanted to go get their usual Sunday coffee so he could make a proper apology.

After an hour of lectures, Owain was excused and he ran down to the shop. Only there was no Hamish, only his assistant.

“Hey where’s Hamish, it’s time for our coffee?” Owain looked at the office door.

“He’s not in today.” He handed a card to Owain. “He did leave this when he stopped in.”

“Thanks.”

“Just...can you stop hurting him?”

Owain looked at the assistant in shock. “I don’t hurt him.”

“Yes, you do. I’m not one of you, but you keep breaking him apart, and I’ll figure out a way to make you unhappy too.”

“I…” Owain couldn’t finish as the assistant stalked off. He had no idea what was going on. Jesus, he was worse than Bors.

He went home where Morrvyd was making tea, he went up to his loft bedroom and sat amid all his books and opened the note. It was on the same card stock as that first request for a meeting. Which he didn’t have in one of his favourite poetry books.

_Owain,_

_My apologies for dragging you into that mess._

_I will leave you be._

_Mr. H.W. MacNiven_

Owain stared at the words. They blurred and he blinked to clear them. They didn’t change.

_Owain_

He couldn’t explain why that hurt more than the bruises and cuts from the mission. He didn’t even realize what he was doing, he packed a bag and jogged out the door. He ignored Morrvyd’s shouts.

 

************************

It was a haze really the next few days. He found himself going to a place he hadn’t been since he decided to lose weight in his second year of uni. It looked the same, an empty warehouse. But he could hear the shouts. He walked in and saw the crowd in the circle.

“Good tonight?” He asked a man counting money.

“Is what it is.” He looked up. “Shit Jesse, haven’t seen you in what 18 months?”

“Something like that.” Owain rolled his shoulders. “I want in, but I’ve had more training, you’ll have to move me up a group.”

“Sure, bro, can do.” The man looked at the books. “That grouping will start in an hour. Get a drink, and walk around some.”

“Still mattresses upstairs?”

“Yeah that will cost an extra 20 quid.” Owain handed over a bunch of money.

“You okay bro?”

“Sure.” Owain tossed his bag into a corner and went to watch the fights.

He won easily, three fights in a row, and he was holding back, a good bit. When done someone put on some dance music and the fighting changed to dancing and drinking. He had also just gotten shitfaced and passed out when he had done this before. But now there were a couple girls who pulled him onto the dance floor.

Owain drank until he couldn’t remember he was called Owain and made out with one of the girls. The next day someone brought in a ton of food and people ate and chilled, did some drugs that he ignored. That night he fought two to one and it was a little harder, but not by much.

When the dancing started a girl singled him out. She was pretty, and he didn’t mind it when she pulled him close. He didn’t think it could be called dancing.

He wondered what Hamish considered impressive dancing.

“Wanna fuck?” He asked her.

“Sure.” She stretched onto her toes and kissed him hard. “Where?”

“Got one of the pallets upstairs.” He began to pull her off the floor. “You got a?”

“Yeah.” She grinned. “Come on, let’s see if that fighting strength, transfers to other places.”

An hour later she was gone, back to the dance floor, to find better. He thought she got off, but he didn’t know, he had mostly laid back and let her use him as she wanted. It wasn’t…

It just wasn’t.

He wasn’t hurting enough. Outside hurt didn’t match inside hurt. He wanted them to.

The next day a bunch of the other fighters were tired of losing to Owain. So they fought him five to one. Owain stepped back in his own mind, figured out he could have them dead in 3 minutes. Instead he put up a good show, but went down. It was almost a relief when they started to kick him, made his brain stop, made the funny feeling in his stomach just the pain of boots. He blocked the worst of the blows and just let the hurt sink in.

“OI!!!! YOU FUCKERS BE’ER GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY BRUV OR I SWEAR THEY WON’T PUT YOU BACK TOGETHER EVER! MOVE YOU FECKIN TOSSERS.” There was a  noise of a gun. Buckshot.

Owain laughed one of the guys who had been kicking him was named Buck. Funny stuff.

The people in the warehouse all scattered. It was reasonable, angry Morrvyd was scary. Tiny ball of hell. Oh god, she was going to be angry at him. Owain tried to get up but that hurt a little too much, so he sort of started to crawl.

“Nope. Just hell no.” Morrvyd said.

Owain stilled and rolled onto his back. “How’d you find me?”

“Should cut the tracker out of your skin, if you really don’t want to be found.” She came over and crouched next to him. “You stupid fucking mother fucker wanker.”

“I’m fine.”

“We’ll let Dr. Pierce decide that. Bors is guarding the front. Let’s get you up.” Morrvyd yanked his arm and helped him go out.

Bors took one look at him and sighed. “Why couldn’t you just jump off a cliff?”

“Because I’m fine.”

Morrvyd and Bors both rolled their eyes and took him to the estate. Dr. Pierce took one look at Owain and just said. “Well let’s start patching you up.”

“I’m fine, just leave me be.”

“I’m too tired for this shit.” Dr Pierce jabbed a large needle into Owain. “That will make you nice and pliable.” He looked to the two. “Bors, you’ll be useful, you can stay. Morrvyd, come back in an hour.”

Morrvyd left, she hated doctors and needles.

She wandered to the kitchen and made some tea. There were more around than normal and she realized it was Wednesday. Hang out night. She grabbed a mug and decided to wait in their office. She was very unimpressed to see Hamish standing out front.

“I don’t like you right now.”

“I can respect that.” He kept turning a box in his hands.

“He went there, because of you. Don’t know why, just know it was because of you.” Morrvyd glared at him. “So tell me why I shouldn’t put you in the room beside his.”

“Just if you could, give this to Mr. Donovan?” Hamish looked tired, like the last few days hadn’t been easy for him.

“Wot is it then? More fancy cufflinks?”

“No, just an old thing, was gathering dust in my cupboard, but it felt right to give it to him. If he doesn’t want it, feel free to toss it in the rubbish bin.” Hamish gave her a polite nod and left.

Morrvyd put the box on her desk and stared at it.. She debated opening it, just throwing it out, but she wouldn’t make choices for Owain. She brought it with her as she returned to the medical room. She put it on the table beside Owain, while Dr. Pierce explained the injuries.

Owain was busy watching his hands move, apparently the doctor didn’t dick around when it came to drugging Kingsman.

“Hey pretty lady. Wanna snuggle?” Owain asked.

“No, I’m mad at you.”

His eyes began to water. “I’m sorry I made a goddess angry.”

Bors started to laugh. “Wow. Just wow.” he looked over. “What’s in the box?”

“Um...Hamish dropped it off for him. Asked me to deliver it.”

A moment of clarity came to Owain. “What did he call me?”

“Mr. Donovan, like always.” Morrvyd answered.

Owain tore into the box. “Shiny. What is it?”

“A compass.” Morrvyd said. She watched the hands move as she tilted it. “Old.”

“Why give me shiny that?” Owain batted at the chain.

Bors took it gently out of her hands. “This is old, an officers.” he moved it about. “World War One. Engraved to Captain MacNiven and says here, something about coming home...no finding your way home. Little bit faded after one hundred years.”

He handed it back to Owain. “That’s a family heirloom he gave you.”

“That’s nice.” Owain said. He batted at the chain more. “Maybe he doesn’t hate me after all. I made a scene you know and then he called me by wrong name. It hurt. I was told I hurt him, but that hurt. Why did wrong name hurt so much?”

“Because, you moron, you like him.”

“You keep saying that. I think it is fakey like rainbows.” Owain nodded, they couldn’t argue with that.

“Why is it so wrong Owain?” Morrvyd pushed.

“Not tonight Gemma, anything he’d say right now, he’d forget or wouldn’t make sense. We’ll sort this in the morning.” Bors said. They stayed with Owain until the drugs knocked him out.

Morrvyd kissed his head. “Love isn’t so scary once you let in, baby.”

Bors snorted “Sure it is, because then you have to fight to keep it.”

“Work with me here, he doesn’t even realize he’s in love.”

“We’ll fix it tomorrow.” Bors promised. “It will be easy.”

 

************************************

Bors stared at Owain. “I should never say anything should be easy.”

Owain glared at them. “What?”

“You slept with someone.” Morrvyd was giving him judgey face.

“So? You’ve slept with plenty.” Owian shot back. He paled. “No slut shaming, just stating a fact.”

“Because sex didn’t mean much to me, other than it felt good.”

“But it doesn’t?” Owain said. “Like it was kind of boring and she said sort of not nice things. I don’t think I like dirty talk.” He got up from the bed. “Take me home, Gem.”

“No, you need more care.”

“Doc said I’m fine, just want to go home and...masturbate to my memories of the girl who I had sex with. I’m sure it was better than I remember. Not sad, lonely, and desperate. And not at all about the fact that he called me Owain.”

Morrvyd yanked on her hair. “I am fucking done with you.” She stalked off and out of the room.

Bors helped Owain into his clothes. “He called you Owain again today, after calling you Mr. Donovan last night.”

“Yeah.” Owain leaned into Bors a little. “I’m not gay. And please don’t say that I’m gay for him.”

“Wasn’t going to. Maybe you are pan or bi, or just don’t want to be labelled.” Bors said easily. “I do think though that you need to talk to him before you do any more stupid things here Jesse. Because this is going to affect work, and that won’t go over well. Harry’s a chill boss, but our personal bullshit has to come second to saving the world.”

“Yeah, I just...everyone keeps saying stuff and teasing and he calls me Mr. Donovan and looks at me. You think I haven’t noticed?” Owain sighed. “Okay I didn’t notice, not until after. But I don’t know what it all means, what I’m supposed to do with it. I just want to go home and curl up.”

“And I can help with that.” Mikey said from the door. “My Gem is ticked at you, so she sent me to fix you. If it helps any Gawain is fixing Hamish.”

Owain turned to Bors. “Save me.”

Mikey was whistling Someday My Prince Will Come. “Sorry, Jesse, I think he is exactly what you need.”

“The cheerfulness will kill me.”

“Probably, but then the rest of us are out of our misery, so gonna roll with it. Good luck!” Bors slapped him on the back. Mikey smiled as he took Owain home.

“So couch or curled up in your library/bedroom?” Mikey asked.

“Bedroom.” Owain decided. He felt safe there. He waited for Mikey to start lecturing him, or telling him things he knew that owain didn’t. But Mikey just gave him a lollipop and put on an Audrey Hepburn movie.

“Harry says her smile fixes everything.” Mikey explained. They watched Sabrina, and Love in the Afternoon, and were in the middle of Charade before Owain said a word.

“I like him.”

“That’s cool.” Mikey grabbed a handful of popcorn.

Owain waited but Mikey didn’t say anything else. “That’s it?”

“Sure. Unless you don’t think it’s cool.”

“I don’t know.” Owain snuggled down a little bit more and took his next dose of pain meds. “I’ve had a crush on a couple guys before, but mostly girls. And he’s just different.” Owain shrugged and then winced at the pain it caused. “But I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Well, picture your perfect day, like your big happy this is love sort of day. What happens in it.”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Mikey prods. “Really?”

“Well yeah. I don’t...Mum and Dad, for them romance was just this pile of books on the ground and one of them at some point remembering to make tea and they just sit there and read, her feet in his lap, or his head in hers. Records playing and just nothing.” Owain said.

“Okay that’s them, transfer it to what you want.”

“Him playing piano while I read. I want to hear him play. And he hums. Did you know he hums and he doesn’t even know it. I’ve recorded it and that makes me sound like a stalker.” Owain looked at him. “But I don’t know if I can be what he wants. I don’t know...sex sucks.”

“You fucked a rando at a fight club because you were drunk and angry and confused. While hung up on someone else. Did you really think that would be good sex? Especially when, and trust me on this, most people their first times blow.”

“Gem’s didn’t.” Owain pouted.

“Gem planned it carefully, you really didn’t.” Mikey replied.

“Yeah. One kiss from Hamish meant more, made me feel better than tab A into slot B did with her.” Owain watched Audrey move around and throw herself at Cary Grant. “But I don’t like the idea of tabs and slots, or me being a slot, for that.”

“Hey, I’m not the one to talk that through with.” Mikey said. “Happy to talk romance, but think of it this way, you don’t want me telling you about mine and Gem’s tabs and slots.”

“Hear you guys often enough.” Owain replied.

“And we’ve all agreed that hasn’t happened.” Mikey said. “Should you call him?”

“One more Audrey Hepburn movie? Roman Holiday?”

“Sure.” Mikey agreed.

“By the way, know what you are doing with all these age difference movies by the way.”

“I’ve very clever and subtle.”

“Glad you are around you know.”

“Awww thanks.” Mikey pulled him into a hug.

******************************

Owain stared at his phone. He could do this. Merlin had given him Hamish’s number and told him to pull it together.

He could do this.

 _Could we talk_? He texted.

Owain was sure that it took an hour for a response, it was five minutes.

_May I come over?_

_Tomorrow for breakfast_?

 _8am. I’ll bring scones_ , _Mr. Donovan_.

Owain breathed out. Mr. Donovan, maybe this would work.

****************************

Morrvyd let Hamish in with a glare and the classic I’m watching you sign. She slammed the door as she went out.

Hamish balanced the coffee tray and bag with scones. “Mr. Donovan?”

“Kitchen.” Owain called out. Hamish followed the sound and saw Hamish sitting at the table, napkins and plates out. “I made coffee.”

Hamish handed him a to go cup. “Butterscotch.”

Owain smiled a little. “Do you even like it?”

“No it is rather dreadful, but you brought it to me that day, so I am fond of it for that.” Hamish sat down and put the scones on the plate.

They ate in silence.

“Were you safe, when you had sex?” Hamish asked.

“Yes. Monkey was wrapped and everything.” Owain said.

“Good.” Hamish replied. “I owe you several apologies Mr. Donovan.”

Owain stared at his cup. “Could you, Jesse. Call me Jesse.”

Hamish nodded. “I owe you several apologies, Jesse.

“I’m sorry I made a scene.” Owain looked at him. “I just couldn’t stand them treating you like crap. Thinking they were better than you, but they ain’t fucking better than you.”

“I’m not mad that you caused a scene.” Hamish smiled. “I was embarrassed, yes. But...no one has stood up for me like that in a long time. And so effectively.”

“Then why did you go so distant after?” Owain asked. “Why was I Owain?”

“Because no one has stood up for me like that for ages and it was fake. For a moment, I just saw this beautiful young man, acting like I mattered, like I was worth defending. And then I remembered, you were acting, it was all just a show. And that ached more than any words Charles had said. Ached more than my last few break ups.” Hamish took a sip of the disgusting coffee. “And I walked away, to remind myself that what I wanted, couldn’t be mine.”

“Why not?” Owain asked.

Hamish looked at him. “Really? We’re making jokes at this moment?”

“No. I’m asking why not?”

Hamish put the cup down. “Because I am fifty and you are twenty four. Because I am gay and you are heterosexual. Because I am a tailor and you are a man who is going to save the world. Because I am incredibly boring and I believe the most common phrase used is fuddy duddy. Because you are utterly beautiful and I’m aging rapidly.”

Owain looked at him. “Why did you give me all those extra gifts, the compass? Are you trying to buy my affections?”

“No.” Hamish’s voice was strong, clear with conviction. “No, those were done with no expectations, beyond making you happy, beyond making you see how amazing you are. You were so nervous in that first fitting and I just wanted to hug you and show you that you were brilliant.” Hamish smiled. “I find you brilliant.”

“You are sarcastic, and funny, and no one else seems to notice, because it is so damn dry and you only do it with me and your assistant. I’ve seen you look at agents when they bring in a ruined jacket and you actually have them scared of you. Men who kill for a living are terrified of you and your shears.” Owain laughed a little. “You made my tummy feel funny the first time you said my name. You just keep making my tummy feel funny, thought I was sick or something, but it was only when you smiled at me.”

“I sat down and had to practically be fanned by my assistant after you hugged me.”

“You are older than my parents.” Hamish winced a little at those words. “And I don’t really ever want to have anal sex. And I’ll probably die at some point in a not nice way. And I’m not 100% sure what I feel for you, or have any idea how any of this is supposed to play out. But when you called me Owain, it hurt and I ran and I did stupid shit.”

“I am sorry for stepping back, but it seemed wise to protect my heart.” Hamish smiled sadly. “You are a very good actor.”

Owain stood up carefully still sore as hell. He moved to in front of Hamish and nudged the chair a bit until Hamish slid back. Owain carefully sat down on his lap. He looked at Hamish. “See that’s the thing, I’m really not a good actor. I was horrible at NLP training, I made up two different fake names, just to protect my parents. Last name isn’t Donovan or Marsters. It’s Peters.” He touched Hamish’s face. “The kiss? It started as a show. But it didn’t finish as one.”

Owain leaned down the little bit and kissed Hamish softly. It was gentle as Owain’s lip was cut from the fighting, just a brush and a press really. He then leaned in and hugged Hamish and relaxed when Hamish’s arms settled around his waist.

“Mr. Donovan, I don’t have any problems with any limits you put on possible sexual encounters that may or may not occur in the future.” Hamish said.

“But it’s important.”

“No, what’s important is whatever makes the couple feel happy and comfortable. There is a great deal of variety to be had in the bedroom, and that one thing? I enjoy it, but I can live without it.” Hamish stroked his hand up and down Owain’s back. “Also it isn’t like we have to worry about it right now. I am hardly the sort to put out on the first date.”

“Does this count as our first date?” Owain asked.

“Good lord no.” Hamish responded.

Owain’s tummy was funny at that, and not the good funny. “Oh right."

Hamish pulled Owain back a little so that he could look at him. “Scones and too sweet coffee while you are injured is hardly what I want for our first real date, Jesse. Next Saturday I will pick you up, and take you out. To dinner and the music club I frequent. We will have conversation and a lovely walk, and I will give you a goodnight kiss, provided Morrvyd doesn’t shoo me away from your door.”

“You going to bring me flowers Hamish?”

“If you like.”

“Sure.” Owain couldn’t resist and kissed Hamish’s nose. “They are going to be annoying at work, all smug that they were right about me wanting to have your gay babies.”

“I’ll cut their waists an inch too tight in fittings.”

“That will show them.” Owain smiled.

“I am a very dangerous individual.” Hamish looked at the clock. “And I should go to work.”

“Can’t you stay and watch an Audrey Hepburn movie?”

“Just one. Mr. Donovan.”

“Jesse.” Owain reminded him. “Although I’m intrigued by the idea of you calling me Mr. Donovan in bed.”

“Shouldn’t it be Mr. Peters?” Hamish quirked a brow. “No, that sounds wrong. We’ll stick with the fake name.”

Owain laughed and pulled him to the sofa for a snuggle.

 

****************************************

It was their third very respectable and very nice date. Hamish hadn’t brought flowers that first date, but a thin book of Wordsworth’s flower poems.

Owain became just as smitten as Hamish.

And now he was in Hamish’s house. It was a townhouse and he had the end unit. It was pretty much exactly as Owain had pictured it. Lovely, simple, but touches here and that that made it a home and not a show piece. He settled into the living room and just stared at the piano, while Hamish got tea

When he returned, Owain asked, “Play for me?”

Hamish smiled and went over. He began to fiddle about a little, before settling into something soft and slow and oddly sexy. Owain was used to finding sexy music sexy. But this was different. And Jesus Hamish’s hands over the keys. He began to wonder about Pretty Woman and the Fabulous Baker Boys whether sex on a piano was actually feasible.

“No.”

“Huh?”

“I can hear you thinking and we are never having sex on my grandmother’s piano.” Hamish spun around on the bench.

“You know you look sexy as fuck when you play I take it.” Owain grinned.

“It has been suggested that playing piano is when I look my best.” Hamish replied. He smiled at Owain who was sprawled on the sofa. He looked him up and down. “You look as delectable as always.”

Owain blushed. He still wasn’t used to all the compliments that Hamish paid him. “Nothing special.”

“How many phone numbers did you get from wait staff tonight?

“Only two.” Owain mumbled. “It doesn’t bother you?”

“I used to be a jealous sort, but that gains  you little in a relationship, Jesse. And if you say you are mine, I have no reason to question that.”

“Come here Hamish.”

Hamish walked over and Owain held open his arms, but Hamish had settled on his knees in front of him.

“What are you doing?” Owain asked quietly.

“Indulging myself, indulging you, if I may Jesse.” Hamish’s hands were on his knees.

Owain wasn’t quite sure what was going to happen but he trusted Hamish.

“My bloodwork was all fine,” Hamish commented, “You?”

“All clear.” Owain agreed.

“Good.” Hamish slid his hands up Owain’s thighs. “Mr. Donovan just rest your head back and close your eyes.”

Owain shivered at the Mr. Donovan while Hamish was on his knees. He quickly closed his eyes, only to realize that made the touch more intense. Hamish just kept rubbing his thighs, back and forth. It should have been soothing and it was making him squirm and have an altogether different feeling in his tummy.

Hamish slowly unbuckled Owain's belt and undid the trousers. "I find it pleasurable to undo the trousers I created for you." He slid his hand into the opening and laid it on Owain's cock. "May I suck you off, Mr. Donovan?"

Owain banged his head against the back off the couch. "Yeah. Jesus yes please."

Hamish smiled. "Will this be your first time for that Mr. Donovan?"

"Yes, sir." Owain shot up a bit from the couch. "I mean, Hamish. Uh yeah Hamish. That's it, I didn't say anything else."

"We'll discuss that slip later Mr. Donovan, but for now just enjoy." Hamish eased Owain's pants down over the mostly soft cock. "I love this you know, making a soft cock go hard in my mouth."

"Oh jeez." Owain looked down. "Right I have to keep my eyes closed, because watching will make it over way too quick."

"We wouldn't like that, I do so enjoy taking my time, Mr. Donovan." Hamish leaned up high and kissed Owain's eye lids. "Just feel." He sank back down and held Owain's cock to his lips. He gave the tip a gentle kiss and slipped it into his mouth and suckled the tip gently. It didn't take very long for Owain's cock to grow hard. Hamish kept it easy and gentle, long licks, kisses, an easy up and down. He was in no rush and he didn't think Owain would last long anyways, not with the way he was moaning and his hips were bucking. 

Owain tried to keep quiet but the second that Hamish swallowed around him he began to babble. "Fuck Hamish, what the hell, how are you doing that, and like does it always feel this good. Why's my spine feeling tingly. Oh god are you so good at sucking cock you're paralyzing me?" Owain groaned as the sensations swept through him, his brain warring with his body.

Hamish pulled off his cock and knelt up. He kissed Owain hard. 

"Is that taste me? Do I like it? Am I supposed to like it?" Owain kept babbling.

Hamish wrapped his hand around Owain's cock and began to pump, twisting his wrist at the top. "Mr. Donovan, relax and just feel." He wrapped his other hand around Owain's neck and buried the young man's face into his shoulder. "Just feel, my heart. Focus on the feel of my fingers."

"Cool fingers. Feel good on hot skin." Owain's voice was a little muffled but was clear enough.

"There you go." Hamish kept his hand moving quickly. "That feeling in your spine, is the pleasure the building orgasm, don't fight it, just let it roll over you. Don't think about anything but the cool fingers." Hamish kissed his head. "Let go, Jesse."

"Oh holy mothering fuckity fuck." Owain groaned as the orgasm hit. 

Hamish gave his cock a couple more pumps and then let go when Owain whimpered. He knelt back down and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. He wiped off his hand and Owain's cock, being very gentle with the latter, before he tucked Owain back into his pants and did up the trousers. He couldn't resist and lay a kiss over the fabric. "This is why I always carry a hankie, Jesse, so many wonderful uses."

"Never teasing you about that again." Owain said, eyes still glazed. "That was the best fucking thing ever."

"Oh trust me, we have many more fucking things to do, my dear." Hamish sat on the couch beside him and tucked Owain into his arms. "So many wonderful fucking things."

"Wow." Owain's breath began to steady. "I want to do so many things with you. Want you to teach me all sorts of things."

"As you wish, Mr. Donovan."

"My come is on the hankie in your pocket, probably should be calling me Jesse right now."

"Jesse." Hamish said. "Drink your tea, I am due to have you home in an hour."

"I could stay the night."

"Your Morrvyd has made it clear, no sleepovers yet. And we are in no rush, are we?" Hamish asked. 

"No rush at all." Owain agreed. "Play me some more music? Your favourite."

Hamish kissed his head. "As you wish Jesse." He went over to the piano and played until it was time to drive Owain home.


End file.
